


take it easy my brother

by KilltheRhythm



Category: Football RPF
Genre: AU no wives or kids, Also kind of a character study, Fluff sorta, Leo and Cris are basically best bros, M/M, Set slightly in the future, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Title comes from Jorge Ben song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:33:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilltheRhythm/pseuds/KilltheRhythm
Summary: Leo and Cristiano end up playing for the same MLS team. Whatever they have, Leo never anticipated it to happen.





	take it easy my brother

"How much longer?"

Cris looks back at him, eyes narrowed comically. He's walking backwards now, just looking at Leo. He doesn't turn his head at all to see behind him, just keeps his eyes on Leo, diverting his attention for only a moment to look at his watch.

"You asked me that... five minutes ago."

Leo throws his hands up in the air in mock exasperation. "You said it was a short walk!"

"It _is_ a short walk!"

Leo looks back to where their bus stop was and resists the urge to laugh. Two of the world's greatest, riding a bus? Comedy gold. He knows that Cris made them get off on the wrong stop, and that really he couldn't be blamed that much. They'd only been in Austin for what, maybe 5 months? It still felt surreal.

But his legs did ache, from training earlier. And it was disgustingly warm outside. As it turned out, Texas is warmer than Spain. "We've been walking for like a mile and a half!"

Cris turns around again. "You're a professional athlete. You can handle this." Then he pauses, so Leo can catch up to him, swings an arm around the shorter man's shoulders and looks ahead. "I can see the headlines now: "Old Man Messi Unable to Walk Post MLS Move.""

Leo shoves Cris, but not hard. The bridge they're walking on is next to a busy street, one that he should really know the name of, but doesn't and he doesn't want Cris to actually fall into traffic. "Where are we going anyways? You never told me."

Cris looks ahead, a small smile playing on his face. "Look there," he points to a small building on their right.

Leo sounds out the word in his head, still not used to English. S A N D Y' S. Sandy's. He reads the words beneath it. "We're getting burgers?"

Cris nods. Leo represses a laugh. The idea of Cristiano Ronaldo of all people getting an evening burger is hilarious. Leo's stomach rumbles and he decides he's glad that they're getting food. He frowns when he realizes the menu is in all English. Cris says he'll order for the both of them.

They wait in the back, sitting at a table. The roof above them has a single yellow bulb to illuminate them and it makes the man facing him twinkle gold. Cris sips his water and looks at Leo. Suddenly he's taken back to around a year ago. The image is too familiar.

 

"End of an era," Cris had scoffed, taking another sip from his cup and wincing. Leo chuckled at him before he drank too. "Fuck, I guess they're right."

Leo looked at Cristiano. He hadn't ever really had a conversation with him before, just small talk during awards ceremonies. Now, feeling snubbed, they sat at a restaurant, drinking and feeling sorry for themselves. Leo's knees had ached slightly then, freshly back from an injury.

"I think we're getting old." Leo said.

"Yeah," Cristiano sounded dejected "of course we were gonna stop getting the Ballon d'Or."

Leo would've liked to say he won it last, but it didn't really matter. They were tied at six anyways. It did matter though. For the first time in what seemed like forever, someone else had won. It was the end of an era. "We're getting old," he says, again.

Cris looked up from his drink. There were a few lines in his face now, but the warm lighting of the restaurant painted him bronze. He looked statuesque, like a Greek god. Leo wetted his lips and took a sip of his drink, suddenly really tasting the whiskey. "You think it's time to move on?"

"Move on?" Leo echoed. It's a horrifying thought. He didn't really feel thirty five, but he knew that he plays less now. Didn't finish every game. _Like Iniesta_ , he thought. "You mean retire?"

Cris shook his head. He played less too now. "I'm thinking another league." A pause. "MLS, maybe?"

"America?" Leo raised his brows. He hadn't really thought about it that much. He didn't really know Cristiano well either, didn't know him well enough to call him Cris like he'd heard Gerard do. "When?"

"In a year, maybe. I'll be thirty seven. Can't play for Real forever." Cristiano looked sad. "Still want to play, though."

For some reason, some tug in his heart, Leo nodded. He thought of where in America he could go. Not in the north, too cold, and not enough Spanish speakers. Leo'd never loved the hustle and bustle of fame, so California was out of the question. "Texas?"

Cristiano smiled. His teeth glinted like they were made of pearls. Leo decided that he liked how he looked up close and personal. "Austin."

 

"Leo!" Cris's voice snaps. He's standing up, looking peeved. He waves a takeaway bag in front of Leo's face, comically impatient.

Leo looks up, nodding. "Let's eat."

"We're leaving." Cris says with a roll of his eyes. "The food was to go for a reason."

Leo sighs, and gets up. He follows Cris's lead. Of course he would. He'd agreed to go to America with him, agreed to go to the same club, the same city. The Leo of two years ago would've never even dreamed of doing that, especially for someone like Cristiano Ronaldo. Leo didn't consider himself arrogant, and would've liked the thought that he didn't hang out with arrogant bastards either.

Looking at Cris ahead of him though, he didn't get a sense of arrogance. Cris was confident, self-assured yes, and flashy at times, but he'd grown up. He looked so normal now: buzzed hair, in a t shirt and shorts, dusty walking shoes. Of course he still had the perfect eyebrows and the chiseled features, but Austin was a town full of young, pretty people, so he fit right in.

They'd chosen Austin for one reason, mostly. Privacy. Leo misses the screaming crowds in the stands, wearing the blaugrana, the feeling of the kick off at the Camp Nou, and this would never truly replace it, but he enjoys how he can walk down town without anyone asking to take a photo. He imagines Cris feels the same. They don't get recognized too often.

Leo is shaken from his thoughts by walking into a light post. Cris laughs from his left, the hands on his knees, cackling type laughter. Leo turns to flip him off, his head ringing slightly. "How could you let me do that?!"

"I thought you were following me!" Cris says through his laughter. "I took a left and you just kept going."

Leo looks at him. Cris is standing on a nearly empty hill, one that faces the huge highway bridge. "Why would you walk under the overpass? Who does that?"

Cris looks at the bridge, and then at him before making his way down the hill. "Leo. The whole point is the bridge. The bats. The bats come out from under the bridge."

Leo follows. From his peripheral vision he can see a young family spread out a blanket on the hill. Further away an elderly couple does the same. "Bats?"

Cris nods, sitting down. Leo follows suit. The grass feels nice and lush under his legs. "The bat on the crest of our jerseys. They live under the bridge. It's like a whole thing."

They fall silent for a while, eating and watching the sunset. The river isn't too far away, and the approaching twilight is purple. Cris looks up at the sky, and Leo looks at him. He wonders when they got so close. He didn't know Cris well at all until this season, and now he knows he'd follow the man to the ends of the earth.

 

"It's Cris," Cristiano said, looking at Leo. He stood in Leo's house, helping him pack. There were boxes everywhere, the moving date impending. "Not Cristiano."

"I called you Cris a few years ago and you slapped me." Leo said, putting more clothes in a box. The last person who had helped him pack was his ex wife, and that was years and years ago. Cristiano handed him another bundle of shirts.

"That's because we weren't close."

"We're close now?"

Cris looked at him, an undecipherable expression on his face. The light coming in through the window made a halo around his hair. He practically shone. Leo took in a shaky breath. "You're moving with me to Austin. That's something. If we're not close now we'll be close soon."

Cris taped the box shut. Leo closed his eyes tight. This chapter in his life is over. Over. He opened them and looked at Cris again. Cris gleamed in the sun, his hair gel shining. He looks like a deity or a prince or something else that was supposed to be attractive and powerful. The sight grounded him a little. This was real.

 

Leo shakes away the memory. The sun was almost gone. He looks at Cris again, how smooth and even his skin is. He looks at peace, like everyone else. Maybe he belongs here, in Austin, lounging in nature in the twilight. He looks good in this light. Though really, he seemed to look good in every light. Leo looks at him more than he'd like to admit.

"Hey," he says in a low voice, leaning into Leo suddenly. Leo can feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristle up. Cris points up, looking a little excited for once. His other arm plants into the ground, close enough to Leo for him to feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

Leo follows the finger to see a dark stream exit the bridge. Upon a closer look, it isn't a cloud, but a swarm of bats. The slowly forming crowd on the hill oohs and aws. Leo remembers reading about the bats on a pamphlet in the airport, on how they were a huge tourist attraction. Cris had said he'd take him to see them sometime. He smiles at the thought of Cris remembering his words and planning this out.

The supply of airborne mammals seems endless. They lie around in the grass, watching the bats and making small talk. Neither of them are really close to anyone else on the team. It wasn't a surprise with the considerable age gap or Leo's language barrier. His English was serviceable now, but he still doesn't want to talk with the young guys on the team. It's always just him and Cris. He was fine with that though.

Night takes them by surprise. Leo realizes that they'd been on the hill for an hour at least. Cris smiles at him and tells him that time flies when you're having fun. Leo nods, feeling the stiffness in his legs. They'd be a bitch at training tomorrow. He watches as his friend hops up to his feet, and winces when he sits up.

Cris offers him his hand. Leo takes it happily. Cris is warm, as always, his arms strong as he pulls him up. He hugs Leo afterwards, palms flat on his back and his touch lingering. He smells like the fancy cologne that he wears at awards ceremonies. Leo smiles into his chest until he realizes how long the walk is from the field to the bus stop.

Cris shakes his head. "I got us an uber." He says something comically braggerish after that too, but Leo isn't listening. He's tired and sore and just leans on Cris until the car pulls up. It's still warm and humid outside despite the fact that it is solidly night outside. Texas is something else.

The lady who is driving them is middle aged and a fake blonde. The platinum white of her hair contrasting with her tan skin reminds him of Neymar for some reason. He crinkles his nose at the memory and slides himself into the backseat next to Cris, feeling a little antisocial and very tired.

The motion of the car and Cris's quiet conversation in English with the driver quickly lulls Leo to sleep. In his dreams he goes kayaking with Cris and a big golden dog that he is sure neither of them own in real life. It's incredibly pleasant. He wakes up halfway to find his head resting on Cris's chest and Cris's hand absentmindedly carding through his hair. Leo sighs at the relaxing feeling and goes back to his dreams of dogs and boats.

The next time he awakes is in Cris's car. He panics for a moment, worrying about what happened to his car, and how he got there, but a quick look outside the window shows it parked a few spots away in the parking garage. He assumes that Cris carried him into his car.

"I need to drive home."

Cris shakes his head. "You'd fall asleep at the wheel."

"Would not!" Leo says, indignant. His mouth is still dry from having fallen asleep with his mouth open and his eyes don't want to stay open.

Cris chuckles. "Would so. Luckily for you, Saint Ronaldo is here to take you home. And by home I mean my house."

"Your house?"

"My house. You can spend the night and we'll go to training together."

"Like a sleepover?" Leo chuckles at himself. Cris nods, going through his Spotify to find the perfect song for driving. It is apparently a wonderfully cheesy Smiths song. Leo makes fun of him for it, but soon he's bopping his head to There is a Light That Never Goes Out too.

Cris rolls down the windows on his car. This is the "less flashy" one, but it's still a shiny, well-kept sports car, and Leo watches as the people of Austin stare at them when they speed down the streets. There's no way they wouldn't notice, but he takes a page from Cris's book and ignores them, belting along to the song on the stereo, feeling like the epitome of self confidence.

Cris's house is in the center of town, unlike Leo's. It's not too far from downtown and even closer to campus. It's one of the historical homes, a tall two story with a lush garden. Leo can't imagine Cris gardening it, but Cris is a self-made man and probably does. Cris pulls into the gravel driveway slowly, music quieted now. He sighs, hands resting on the wheel, and Leo watches the movement of his jaw as he sighs.

Leo's been in here plenty of times, enough for the two cats Cris has to twirl around his legs. "I think they like you more than they like me," Cris laughs, looking at Leo tangled up by the two cats.

"Of course they do." Leo says, looking at Cris. Cris still looks youthful, even in the harsh lighting of his kitchen. Leo smiles at him and Cris smiles back.

Cris gestures down the hall and then reprimands himself. "Shit, the guest room is still a mess." Leo knows for a fact that Cris's mom was in town last week and that is why. He wonders when he started knowing all of these things until the realization dawns on him that he is Cris's best friend. "You can have my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"No!" Leo says, a little less softly than he anticipated. "I can sleep with you."

Cris pauses, looking straight at Leo, and then he shrugs. "Sure." He turns towards the stairs. "Lemme shower first."

Leo sits on the couch. His brain is still whirring. When exactly did he get so friendly with Cris? They were never close, never close like this and now Leo has dreams where they're practically fucking married. God, what did that say about him? How long had he'd been single for? It's longer than he last remembered and maybe he should try to start dating again but he didn't really want to with this whole thing with Cris and--

 _This?_ Leo gulped. Yeah, he'd seen this coming. Cris wasn't the big bad bully that he'd thought he was before he'd gotten to know him. Maybe Cris was cocky, but he wasn't anywhere as arrogant as the press made him out to be. Leo knew that, knew that when he saw Cris smile at him, or offer to take him out to lunch or to some new spot he'd just heard of. He knew it in the look on Cris's face when he saw him. And Leo saw him a lot. Fuck, Leo knew how he felt. He knew the face he made when he looked at Cris, and how he smiled and wriggled closer when Cris threw his arm around him. How he snored into Cris's shoulder at the airport after away games. How they napped at Leo's house before home games.

It's all he can think about when he slips into Cris's bed. Cris smiles at him, still smelling like shower gel and toothpaste, and Leo doesn't regret moving to America anymore. He wasn't really panicked anymore. "We're too old for that shit anyways," Cris had told him at some point. He didn't really feel old, but he feels like the friendship he had with Cris was an older guy kind of thing. Or maybe not, considering he knew that he felt something more (though he was sure it was mutual).

"You alright?" Cris asks. Leo nods. Cris wraps his arms around him in bed, under the sheets. Leo snuggles closer. He can feel his heart in his chest, hopes Cris can't. It doesn't matter. Cris presses a kiss to the top of Leo's head. Leo looks up at him, head laying sideways on the bed and knows what to do. He closes the distance. They kiss for a while in bed, Cris's hands on the small of Leo's back and in his hair, and Leo pressed tightly up against him, hands tangled in his shirt. Internally he giggles at the thought of them making out like teenagers.

Leo rolls over, Cris still pressed up next to him, and breaths heavy. He could've seen that coming, easily. It was in the way Cris looked at him, how he looked at Cris. Of course they didn't ever say anything about it, but ther didn't really need to. But never in his life did he think that when he was almost thirty six he'd be living in America and making out with Cristiano Ronaldo.

"Come back," Cris whines quietly, arms snaking over Leo. Leo happily complies.

It's a thought he could get used to, though. He liked this.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly just a straight up ode to Austin. Obviously Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo are never going to play in the MLS and Austin is never gonna get a team, but hey I can dream. Validate me with your comments.


End file.
